Ewan MacColl - The Manchester Rambler Chords
[C] [C] [C]I’ve been over Snowdon, I’ve slept upon Crowdon I’ve camped by the Waynestones as [G]well [G]I’ve sunbathed on Kinder, been burned to a cinder And many more things I can [C]tell [C]My rucksack has oft been me [G]pillow, The heather has oft been me [C]bed And sooner than part from the [G]mountains, I think I would rather be [C]dead
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday
The [C]day was just ending and I was descending Down Grinesbrook just by Upper [G]Tor [G]When a voice cried “Hey you” in the way keepers do He’d the worst face that ever I [C]saw The things that he said were un-[G]pleasant, In the teeth of his fury I [C]said “Sooner than part from the [G]mountains, I think I would rather be [C]dead”
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday
He [C]called me a louse and said “Think of the grouse” Well I thought, but I still couldn’t [G]see [G]Why all Kinder Scout and the moors roundabout Couldn’t take both the poor grouse and [C]me He said “All this land is my [G]master’s”, At that I stood shaking my [C]head No man has the right to own [G]mountains, Any more than the deep ocean [C]bed
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage-slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday
I [C]once loved a maid, a spot welder by trade She was fair as the Rowan in [G]bloom [G]And the bloom of her eye matched the blue Moreland sky I wooed her from April to [C]June On the day that we should have been [G]married, I went for a ramble in-[C]stead For sooner than part from the [G]mountains, I think I would rather be [C]dead
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday
So I’ll [C]walk where I will over mountain and hill, and I’ll lie where the bracken is [G]deep [G]I belong to the mountains, the clear running fountains Where the grey rocks lie ragged and [C]steep I’ve seen the white hare in the [G]gullys, And the curlew fly high over[C]head And sooner than part from the [G]mountains, I think I would rather be [C]dead
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage-slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday
[C]I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler from [G]Manchester way I get all me pleasure the [C]hard moorland way I may be a wage slave on [G]Monday But I am a free man on [C]Sunday